


Start a War (For You)

by unscheduledmakeouts



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, M/M, and angst and shit, just so you know, there's no GRAPHIC violence in this one BUT there is violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unscheduledmakeouts/pseuds/unscheduledmakeouts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the son of a mobster boss isn't easy, but when his cousin is murdered and he finds himself falling hard and fast for the person responsible, Blaine's life becomes more complicated than he'd ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Started this one forever ago, and I still hope to finish it at one point. I have all the outlines and the plot, I just need to actually sit down and write it.

Kurt Hummel’s designer watch shows just after midnight when he steps out into the chilly April night and he pulls his thin black jacket tighter around his body. He’s finally managed to escape the increasingly tipsy company of Finn, Rachel and Chandler and is grateful for the crisp night air caressing his face. Not that he dislikes their company per se, the hot and rowdy bar they frequent just isn’t his scene and he’s glad to leave. Plus, he has an early class in the morning and that had been enough to convince Chandler not to come home with him. Kurt barely resists rolling his eyes when he thinks back on the conversation.  
  
 _(“But you know how much I love spooning you, I had been looking forward to that tonight!”_  
  
“I know Chandler, I’m sorry. But I have to get up early tomorrow and I know how clingy you are in the mornings, you’ll keep me in bed for hours after we wake up. Not tonight.”  
  
“But I promise I’ll be good!” Chandler had added with a pout that was clearly meant to be adorable but Kurt had to bite back a laugh because it honestly just came out ridiculous.  
  
“We both know that’s a promise you can’t keep,” Kurt had said with a final tone in his voice, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s pout before waving goodbye to Finn and Rachel and leaving.)'  
  
Kurt knows he’s probably being unfair to Chandler sometimes, it’s honestly not the boy’s fault that he’s absolutely head over heels for someone who doesn’t really feel the same way. They’ve been officially together for almost 10 months now and Kurt’s slowly realizing that he’s never going to fall in love with Chandler. He likes him, sure, he’s nice and cuddly and enthusiastic about a lot of things that are close to Kurt’s heart but the right  _feeling_  just isn’t there. No matter how much he tries, Kurt feels no fireworks when they kiss and often find excuses to cancel their dates. Yes, Kurt knows he’s being unfair but he’s clueless when it comes to approaching the problem. Chandler is his first boyfriend and he has no idea how to deal with a possible end to their relationship.  
  
Too lost in his own thoughts, Kurt realizes too late that he’s being followed. He barely has time to react to the quickly approaching footsteps behind him before a strong hand closes over his mouth and another over his bicep and he’s dragged helplessly into a dark alleyway. He panics, tries to kick and scream but the hand over his mouth keeps his sounds muffled and he’s thrown to the ground and held there before he has time to direct a kick to his attacker’s groin. Kurt is far from a weak little boy, in fact he’s much stronger that you’d think but his attacker is bigger than him and seems drunk both on alcohol and adrenaline. With his left hand still firmly clasped over Kurt’s mouth and most of his weight settled on Kurt’s legs he starts tearing at his clothes, shaking off any punches Kurt manages to throw at him.  
  
Kurt is almost paralyzed by fear now, not only for being raped but he actually fears for his life. His attempts to knock his attacker out with his fists are fruitless and the man seems wild, rabid, almost like an animal. Kurt is very close to praying to a deity he doesn’t believe in when his flailing right hand finds a hard, heavy object. His attacker is still holding his mouth and therefore his head in place so he can’t turn to look at it, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out that the object is a brick.  
  
He grasps it firmly, takes a deep breath through his nose and smacks the brick as hard as he can against the head of his attacker. The man seems to lose his balance for a second or two but then he’s at it again, so Kurt closes his eyes and hits, and  _hits_ , doesn’t even see where he’s hitting or if he’s doing any considerable damage but the thing driving him is fear and not reason and he doesn’t stop hitting until the weight on his legs lessen and he hears a dull thump. Suddenly his mouth is free and he gasps for air, panting from the adrenaline coursing through his body, eyes still closed. He just lays there for a minute, letting his breathing calm down and listening for sounds of someone moving or approaching. He can’t pick up anything except the occasional passing of a distant car, so he slowly opens his eyes.  
  
His attacker has fallen sideways, his face smack down against the ground and the left half of his head covered in…  _oh,_ that’s a lot of blood. A  _lot_  of blood. Kurt quickly looks away and takes a couple of deep, calming breaths; it would spoil the scene of the crime if he barfed in it. He lifts himself up on his elbows and then suddenly his brain catches up with the situation; he just  _killed_  someone. Granted it was in self-defense but oh god, holy shit he killed someone, Kurt Hummel just  _committed murder._  Fear and panic shoots through him again, gripping his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He sits up properly, ignoring the ache in his limbs and tries to calm himself down, fumbles for his phone to call Chandler, Rachel, someone,  _anyone._  Rachel is first on his latest used contacts list so he quickly presses the call button, silently begging her to answer quickly. While he waits his eyes drift to the man – the  _dead body_  – beside him, to his hands, the hands he used to assault Kurt and what is that ring he’s wearing…?  
  
“Kurt?” Rachel’s voice says in his ear. “Did you get home okay?”  
  
She sounds concerned but that’s not really strange, Kurt usually just sends a text to let them know he’s home safe. He almost doesn’t register Rachel’s voice though because he just recognized the ring on his attacker’s finger, the thick golden band with the silhouette of a warbler carved into it.  
  
“Kurt? Kurt, are you there?”  
  
“Rachel,” Kurt says weakly, trying and completely failing to keep the tremble out of his voice. “Rachel, I just killed a member of the Anderson family.”  
  
\----------  
  
“Boss, we have some bad news.”  
  
Blaine Anderson looks up from his work a few seconds before his father does. Mr. Anderson raises a grey eyebrow and takes a long drag on his cigar, his thick gold ring catching the light of the fluorescents in his underground office.  
  
“What is it?” he says in a low, almost bored voice. Blaine’s eyes flicker between him and the two men standing in the doorway, both wearing black suits and rings with the sigil of the Anderson family. The man on the right clears his throat and takes a step forward.  
  
“Your nephew Victor has been found dead.”


	2. Chapter 2

If there’s one thing in this world that Blaine has grown to hate with a passion, it’s the huge shiny black cars he’s forced to travel around in. Not only because he’s spent so much of his life in them already and is unlikely to escape them anytime soon, but also because they’re so  _boring._  One day, he promises himself as he looks out at the gray concrete buildings passing by, he will buy a car for himself and it will be something old and classy like a Chevy, or maybe one of those old hippie Volkswagens. Something with a little soul. Not these huge, slick monsters that never seem to lose that godawful new car-smell. Blaine is actually fairly sure his dad has the family vehicles replaced every year and the thought makes him roll his eyes.  
  
“What’s up, Blainey?” Cooper shouts right in his ear, making Blaine jump.  
  
“Don’t do that!” he exclaims, swatting at his brother who just laughs and scoots back to the other window seat. “And don’t call me Blainey,” he adds, glaring at Cooper for a moment before his gaze drifts back to the world passing outside the car window. He hears his brother scoff.  
  
“Oh come on Blaine, lighten up! It’s good for you to leave home every once in a while,” Cooper says, fiddling with his phone but looking up at his brother every now and then. “Besides, I’ve heard good things about this town. It’s supposed to be a good place for… action,” he continues, wiggling his eyebrows as he puts emphasis on the last word. Blaine shoots him a tired glance.  
  
“You know Coop, it really is a mystery why dad didn’t want you in charge,” he says, voice layered with exaggerated sarcasm. Cooper looks up again and shoots him a big, toothy smile.  
  
“I don’t want to be in charge and you know it,” he says happily. “And you know what?” he continues, smile fading and brow furrowing.  
  
“I know you don’t either.”  
  
*  
  
When they finally arrive Blaine scoots out of the car as fast as possible, pointedly ignoring everything around him while one of his uncles guides him to his room. He flops down on the bed, covers his face with his hands and groans. He  _does_ want to be in charge. He was born and bred to be in charge… quite literally in fact, because when his dad realized his attempts to shape Cooper into what he wanted were fruitless, Blaine had been the solution. In truth he’d probably have more brothers if his mother hadn’t died giving birth to him. He groans again and rolls over on his stomach, not giving a single fuck that he’s wrinkling his suit.  
  
“Blainey?”  
  
He bites his lip to hold back a nasty reply, rolls over again and sits up. Cooper is standing in the doorway, already out of his suit jacket and tie hanging loose around his neck. His expression is calm, although Blaine knows him too well to not see the faint traces of worry still in his eyes.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Dad wants to see you.”  
  
*  
  
 _Why the fluorescents,_  Blaine thinks to himself as he steps into his dad’s office. Of course his dad can’t meet him in an informal setting when it’s about family business, oh no that would be unthinkable. Blaine doesn’t think he’s ever been in his dad’s private room after the age of sixteen.  
  
 _Why always the fucking fluorescents?_  
  
“Have a seat,” his dad says, barely glancing up from his paperwork.  
  
 _Hello to you too,_  Blaine just barely stops himself from saying while walking over and sitting down in the chair opposite his father.  
  
“I’ve sent my best men out to check tapes from surveillance cameras and interrogate our underground network,” Mr. Anderson says without looking up. “You know how this works, if I’m not available they will report to you as soon as they find something of interest.”  
  
Blaine heaves a deep sigh. “So you want me to just sit on my ass and do nothing, as usual?”  
  
“Until we know who did this I don’t want anyone in this family to parade themselves on the streets,” his father says in a tired voice. “Let the experienced ones take care of it.”  
  
 _I’m not a fucking kid anymore,_  Blaine wants to say but stops himself. “What about Victor’s funeral?” he asks instead.  
  
“Not until we find the killer,” his father answers, still without looking at him. “The kid has been dead for a month, he can wait a week or two more.”  
  
“Right, of course. Family honour comes before everything else,” Blaine says, the sarcasm and irritation in his voice unmistakable. His dad cocks an eyebrow at his paperwork.  
  
“You seem awfully invested in this for someone who’s only met the kid once,” he says, scribbling something on the paper he’s been reading before folding it and putting it away.  
  
“And you seem awfully detached for someone who just found out their nephew is dead!” Blaine almost shouts, unable to keep his frustration at bay any longer. His dad finally looks up from his paperwork but his gaze finds the ceiling instead of Blaine.  
  
“Victor was a drunk, a bumbling idiot who was no good for anyone,” Mr. Anderson says with a deep sigh. “He was not worthy of this family.”  
  
“He was still your nephew!” Blaine is standing up now, anger radiating from him. Sometimes he can’t believe that someone like his father could love someone as much as he (allegedly) loved Blaine’s mother. He doesn’t seem capable of loving anyone or anything except honour.  
  
“We’re done talking about this,” his father says, eyes drifting closed while his right hand finds a cigar and a lighter in a drawer in the big mahogany desk. Blaine almost starts shouting again but he knows it won’t change anything, so he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, clenches his teeth and turns around, exiting the room in a rage and with the smell of cigar smoke following him. Five minutes in his room has him out of his suit and into jeans and a t-shirt, and as he grabs his brown leather jacket he pulls off his signet ring and throws it in a corner. He needs to be anywhere but here.  
  
*  
  
It’s a weekday and not even 5pm yet, so when Blaine grumpily stalks into the first bar he finds it isn’t exactly busy. The bartender pays no attention to him after handing him his drink and Blaine is grateful. The place is small but neat and the clientele consists of an elderly man in a worn suit, two girls discreetly holding hands under the table and half a dozen men in their thirties who most likely are there to watch the football game. Blaine is halfway through his drink and has one eye on the game when he hears the door open and feels the presence of someone else sliding up on the stool next to him.  
  
“Could I just have a water, please?”  
  
The high-pitched, angelic voice immediately catches Blaine’s attention and he’s glad he swallowed down his mouthful of Cuba Libre before turning around, because otherwise he probably would’ve choked on it. It’s hard enough to believe a voice like that came from a man, but from man who looks like that… wow, Blaine just barely resists the temptation to pinch himself. He tries to take it all in at the same time – the smooth pale skin, the elegant posture, the delicious jawline, the impeccable hair – and doesn’t realise he’s staring until the beautiful stranger turns his head and cocks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him.  
  
“Can I help you?”  
  
There’s the voice again. It makes Blaine’s insides swirl in the most wonderful way.  
  
“I – um, I… I mean, you – I…”  
  
And turns him into a bumbling idiot, apparently. He feels the colour rising on his face and quickly turns away, his grip on the glass in front of him turning vice-like.  
  
“No, I… I’m sorry, I wasn’t… sorry for bothering you,” he blurts out, staring intently at his own hands and just quickly glancing up during the last words. The stranger shrugs (oh god, he manages to make shrugging look graceful) and turns back around to accept his water from the bartender. Blaine has to force himself to avert his eyes, otherwise he’ll be staring at the stranger’s lips shaping around the glass as he drinks and imagining those lips shaped around other things and…  
  
“Can I buy you a drink?” he suddenly asks, turning to face the man again, eager to interrupt both his own thoughts and the silence between them. The man looks up from his drink to Blaine, and raises his glass slightly.  
  
“I already have one,” he says. His expression is guarded, but not unfriendly. God, Blaine could look into those eyes forever.  
  
“No, I mean… a  _drink_  drink,” he says, feeling his cheeks flush again. For a brief second the stranger almost smiles, _almost,_  but then his expression shifts into more guarded than before and he turns away.  
  
“Thank you, but I can’t. I’m waiting for a friend.”  
  
Blaine’s heart immediately sinks to somewhere around his feet. ‘A friend’. Of course a man like this isn’t single, of course he won’t be interested in Blaine when he probably has some supermodel boyfriend who fawns over him and gives him everything he needs.  
  
Blaine’s thoughts are interrupted by the unmistakable tones of Defying Gravity, and he watches from the corner of his eye as the stranger pulls out his phone and answers it with a smile.  
  
“Hi Rachel! Where – are you outside? Okay, I’ll be right out.”  
  
Blaine frowns as the man hangs up and swigs the rest of his water. Rachel? Blaine has always prided himself on having an impeccable gaydar and there’s no way this guy is straight. Plus, he hadn’t cringed when Blaine offered to buy him a drink, like the majority of straight men would’ve done. No, he can’t let this one go. Just as the stranger is about to get up, Blaine finds his courage and his voice again.  
  
“Hey, um…”  
  
The beautiful man turns to face him again, eyebrow raised in question.  
  
“What’s your name?” Blaine asks, slightly breathless and completely taken aback by those eyes again. The stranger gives him a once-over, seemingly contemplating if he should answer. Finally their eyes meet again.  
  
“It’s Kurt,” the man says and there’s a smile in his eyes, even if not on his lips. He cocks his head to the side, eyeing Blaine curiously. “What’s yours?”  
  
“Blaine. It’s… my name’s Blaine.”  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt says and Blaine’s stomach swoops with the way he puts emphasis on the ‘l’. “Well, nice meeting you Blaine,” he adds and before Blaine can answer Kurt is out the door, running into the arms of a petite brunette. Blaine can see them through the window beside the door, and they’re clearly very good friends but are, to his relief, not acting like a couple. So his gaydar was probably right after all, and maybe there’s a shred of hope.  
  
“Kurt,” he says, quietly and to himself, turning back towards the bar. “Kurt.” He relishes in the feeling of saying it, and wonders if he will ever see him again. If he will ever –  
  
“Blainey!”  
  
“Coop, for fucks sake, not in public!” Blaine groans and turns around, finding his brother’s grin inches from his face.  
  
“I was worried about you!” Cooper exclaims as he slides up onto the stool where Kurt was sitting mere minutes ago.  
  
“Why?” Blaine scoffs. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve had to get out of the house after an argument with dad.”  
  
“True, but you’re usually in a town you know,” Cooper points out and takes Blaine’s glass from him, draining the rest of the drink. “Dad has a point Blaine, one of our own was killed here just a month ago.”  
  
“Dad’s an idiot,” Blaine mutters, drawing thoughtless patterns in a small pool of condense on the counter. “He never listens to anything I have to say.”  
  
“Dad never listens to anything anyone has to say, little brother,” Cooper says, nudging their shoulders together. “Oh, and I had a quick look in your room before I came after you. Here.”  
  
Blaine looks up and sees Cooper holding out the signet ring towards him. He sighs and turns away, but Cooper pushes the ring into his hand.  
  
“You’re lucky I found it before one of your uncles did, they would’ve taken it straight to dad and  _that_  wouldn’t have been pretty,” he says, putting a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and shaking him gently. “I know you’re upset with dad but the faster we get done here the faster we can go back home, and I know that’s what you want.”  
  
Blaine thinks about Kurt, about his gorgeous eyes and smooth, pale skin and wants to say that he’s not so sure about that, but instead he just grunts in agreement and takes the ring from Cooper.  
  
“That’s my boy,” Cooper smiles as Blaine slides the ring onto his finger. “Come on, let’s go back. You may be the son of a mobster boss, but you wouldn’t want to parade the streets of an unknown city after dark.”  
  
Blaine fondly rolls his eyes and gets up, letting Cooper put his arm around his shoulders as they walk out.  
  
\----------  
  
“Oh god.”  
  
“Kurt –“  
  
“Oh god, oh god,  _oh god._  This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening…”  
  
“Kurt,” Rachel says again, more firmly this time and Kurt can feel the couch dip as she sits down next to him. “You have to calm down, freaking out won’t help matters one bit.”  
  
Kurt groans and lifts his hands to his face, covering it so he won’t have to see the headline in front of him, printed in big, black ominous letters;  
  
 **MISSING MAN FOUND DEAD**  
Anonymous tip leads police to body  
  
The police haven’t gone out with the name yet but everyone knows the dead man is Victor Anderson. The family is well known even outside of their main operating area and word travels fast, both about the murder and about the fact that the Anderson family arrived in town yesterday. Reports say they’re staying inside the thick walls of their mansion but are still determined to find the killer, pulling every resource they have to do so.  
  
“Kurt,” Rachel says again, obviously concerned by his silence. “There’s no way to link you to the murder, we were extremely careful when moving and burying the body. Please,  _please_  try not to freak out.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Kurt mumbles into his hands. “But what if… what if they do find out?” he continues, his voice weak and trembling. “They have eyes and ears everywhere, we can’t underestimate them. If they find out it was me, if they…”  
  
“Sweetie, no,” Chandler says from Kurt’s other side, sliding an arm around his waist. “Please don’t talk like that, everything will be okay.” Kurt wants to squirm away, wants to be alone but he’s trapped between Chandler and Rachel and they both have firm grips on him, so instead he just sighs and curls up on himself even more.  
  
“Look, dude,” Finn cuts in from the chair opposite them, his voice sounding distant to Kurt’s ears. “Why didn’t you just go to the police, tell them it was self-defense? They could’ve protected you.”  
  
Kurt shakes his head violently, trying to keep his voice steady as he answers.  
  
“Nothing is safe when it comes to the Andersons. If they suspected the police knew, they would find a way to make them spill the information. I couldn’t risk that, not even the police is stupid enough to get in the way of the Anderson family.”  
  
Kurt lowers his hands from his face just in time to see Rachel frown.  
  
“So you think the police will just drop it and let the Andersons handle it? That doesn’t sound very professional,” she says.  
  
“Professionalism has nothing to do with it,” Kurt answers. “It’s simply a question of not wanting to get tasered or possibly shot.”  
  
“But the police wouldn’t just do that!” Chandler exclaims. “They would…”  
  
“God, I don’t care!” Kurt yells, pulling himself free and standing up. “I don’t fucking care what the police would and would not do because the Anderson family is in town and that means there’s a possibility I might soon have a price on my head! I want all of you out, now!”  
  
They all look at him with shock written all over their faces. Rachel stands up and reaches for him but he shies away, pointing at the door.  
  
“Kurt, please…”  
  
“No. Out, all of you! You too Chandler, I’m done with this. Leave me alone!”  
  
“But, sweetheart…”  
  
“I said  _get out!_ "  
  
They all just stare at him in disbelief and sadness for a couple of seconds before slowly turning around, grabbing their jackets and leaving. Chandler is the last one out the door and he turns in the stairway, his gaze meeting Kurt’s.  
  
“Kurt, baby, please don’t…”  
  
But Kurt slams the door in his face, his breathing rough and uneven as he walks back to the couch and collapses on it, violent sobs shaking his body for what seems like forever before he finally drifts off into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt surfaces slowly, fighting the need to open his eyes. Everything feels wrong, out of place, and he can’t remember why. His stomach tightens with worry as he tries to recall what happened last night, and why he’s sleeping on the couch when he knows perfectly well it always makes his back hurt. He feels almost hungover but his brain is too fuzzy with uneasy sleep to recall the details of last night. He finally decides to move and slowly works his body into a sitting position, opening his eyes and immediately regretting it.  
  
On the coffee table in front of him lies yesterday’s paper, still glaring at him with that big, awful headline. He quickly swats at it, sending it flying off the table and landing on the carpet with a dull thump. He groans and covers his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes until small stars appear behind his eyelids. Slowly, the events of last night come back to him; how he yelled at his boyfriend, stepbrother and best friend and bluntly threw all of them out, god they must be furious with him now. He didn’t mean to freak out like that but he was so  _scared_ … fuck, he’s still scared. He’s absolutely terrified and he threw out the three people in the world on whom he relied the most for comfort and closeness.  
  
 _God, what have I done?_  
  
He has to fix this, despite the things he said (or rather yelled) yesterday he can’t go through this on his own. He won’t. He fumbles for his phone between the couch cushions and checks the time when he finds it. 7:56. That’s too early to call, isn’t it? Yeah, it probably is. He puts the phone down and takes a deep breath before picking up the paper from the floor, opening the page with the dreaded headline and slowly reads the fairly short article. He has to take breaks every now and then to calm his wildly beating heart but when he’s finished he reads it again, and again, and again until he’s lost count and knows it by heart, the black letters not striking him with fear anymore. They’re just words, words on a piece of paper, they can’t hurt him. When he’s sick of the article he reads through the entire paper, slowly and thoroughly, and when he’s done his phone shows 9:03 and he decides it’s not too early to call anymore.  
  
“Kurt?” Rachel’s familiar voice says after five rings, making tears well up in Kurt’s eyes as the full realization of what he did last night hits him.  
  
“Rachel,” he chokes out, completely forgetting the calm and put-together apology speech he had planned out in his mind. “Rachel, I am so, so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking and I’m –“  
  
“Kurt, Kurt, shhh,” Rachel sooths, her voice calm. “Breathe, darling. It’s okay.”  
  
“No it’s not, it’s not fucking okay, I don’t know how I could –“  
  
“Kurt!” She interrupts, raising her voice. “You have to calm down and listen to me. Finn and I talked about it after we got back yesterday and we completely understand that you’re freaked out and that’s where that blow-out came from. It’s alright, Kurt, you have nothing to worry about.”  
  
Kurt listens and tries to even out his breathing, her comforting words making some of the tension trickle out of his tightly drawn shoulders.  _It’s okay, they’re not furious with me, everything’s going to be okay,_  he repeats to himself.  
  
“So,” he begins shakily, swallowing around the now disappearing lump in his throat before trying again. “So you’re not mad at me, at all?”  
  
“Of course not, sweetie,” Rachel assures him, and he can hear the soft smile in her voice. “We’re still here for you, no matter what.”  
  
“Thank you,” Kurt says in a weak voice, and he can almost hear Rachel smiling wider even though she’s not saying anything. “But… what about Chandler? Did you talk to him last night too?”  
  
“I tried calling but it went straight to voicemail,” Rachel answers, sighing. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t in a talking mood. But you should try calling him, he probably didn’t sleep well last night, if at all.”  
  
“But what if he hates me now?” Kurt whispers, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. “I never meant for this to happen but he probably thinks I broke up with him or something and –“  
  
“The only way to find out is to talk to him, Kurt. Just do it, and call me after and tell me how it went. Okay?”  
  
“Okay.” Deep breath. “Thank you Rachel, tell Finn hi and I’m sorry.”  
  
“I will,” she says, the smile back in her voice. “Now go call your boyfriend before you think too much about it and chicken out.”  
  
She hangs up on him before he has time to say anything else and he heaves a deep sigh, presses the speed dial for Chandler and lets his thumb hover over the call button. Kurt has no idea how to talk to him about this, they’ve never had a big fight before. Of course they’ve had disagreements but Kurt has usually just given up and agreed with Chandler in the end because arguing with that boy is absolutely exhausting. With one final deep breath he closes his eyes, presses the button and brings the phone to his ear.  
  
*  
  
“Hi,” Kurt mumbles to Chandler’s feet as his boyfriend walks through his apartment door, having jumped in a cab after their very short conversation about twenty minutes earlier. Chandler doesn’t answer him, he just walks over to the couch and sits down, patting the seat next to him. Kurt closes the door and when he turns to walk over to Chandler there’s a sudden wave of irritation rising in him.  _Why didn’t you fight me,_  he catches himself thinking.  _Why did you let me throw you out like that, why didn’t you take me in your arms, why didn’t you refuse to leave._  
  
Truthfully, he knows why; Chandler doesn’t fight. He argues. Discusses. Cries, occasionally. But he never fights. Many people would see that as a good thing but right now all Kurt can see when he looks at his boyfriend is the fact that he will never truly fight for him, ever. It makes him feel hollow inside but he pushes the feeling away and sits down on the couch, doing everything he can to feel grateful for the fact that Chandler is here and not ignoring his calls or giving him the silent treatment.  
  
“So,” Chandler begins slowly and Kurt’s eyes dart up to meet his. “I must admit I’m not really sure what to do. I guess I somewhat understand that the scene yesterday came from you being scared but honestly, sweetie, I’ve never seen you yell like that, especially not at me. It really hurt my feelings.”  
  
“I know, Chandler, I’m so sorry,” Kurt begins, taking a few calming breaths while figuring out what to say next. “I have no idea what came over me last night and I hope you can forgive me for the way I acted. I can’t lose you.” At least not right now, Kurt finishes in his head but keeps those last words to himself. Chandler’s face softens and he takes Kurt’s hand in his, mouth curving into a soft smile.  
  
“I forgive you, sweetie,” he says. “I’ll always be here, okay?”  
  
Kurt nods, a small smile shaping his own lips. He wonders if it looks forced.  
  
“Now,” Chandler continues with a bigger smile on his face, “what do you say we watch Julie Andrews movies and snuggle on the couch all day?”  
  
“Sounds great,” Kurt says, even though they always, always do that exact thing whenever one of them is feeling down. “I just need to call Rachel really quick. Could you maybe make us some sandwiches? I’m starving,” he continues, sending Chandler another smile that feels forced. But thankfully his boyfriend seems oblivious and jumps off the couch with a nod and a big smile, heading towards the kitchen. Kurt wastes no time in getting out his phone and calling Rachel, her cheery I’ve-already-had-two-large-coffees voice answering after two rings.  
  
“How did it go?” she asks as soon as she picks up.  
  
“Hello to you too,” Kurt giggles. “It went great, he’s here now and we’re just going to chill out today.”  
  
“Finn and I are going to that new restaurant tonight,” Rachel says almost before he’s finished speaking. “You should come with us! You know how much I love our double dates.”  
  
Kurt bites his lip, hesitating for a moment and Rachel heaves a sigh at the other end.  
  
“Kurt, it’s very important that we all stick together after the fall-out yesterday, and this is the perfect way to do that. Please, join us?” she pleads and Kurt knows she’s making puppy-eyes at the phone right now. He really doesn’t feel like going anywhere today but she does have a point, and maybe he’ll feel different come dinner time.  
  
“Alright,” he concedes and smiles at her little exclamation of joy at the other end.  
  
“Great! See you there at six. Now have a great day!” she says and then, as usual, hangs up before he has time to say anything else.  
  
“Apparently we’re going on a double date tonight,” Kurt informs Chandler when he returns with the sandwiches.  
  
“Another one?” Chandler laughs, handing Kurt the plate before crouching down to put the Sound of Music DVD in the player. “Man, Rachel sure does love them.”  
  
“That she does,” Kurt agrees with a small smile, allowing Chandler to cuddle up close to him and swing his arm over his shoulders, even though it almost makes him feel… trapped.  
  
 _This is going to be a long day,_  he thinks solemnly to himself as the opening credits appear on the screen.  
  
*  
  
Six hours later they’ve worked their way through not only Sound of Music, but also Marry Poppins, Thoroughly Modern Millie and more than half of Princess Diaries. Chandler is, as a result of his almost sleepless night, asleep and leaning on Kurt’s shoulder and Kurt is just thanking his lucky stars that his boyfriend isn’t a drooler. Be that as it may, his arm is asleep and he really needs to go shower and pick an outfit for the restaurant tonight. If he’s being completely honest he still doesn’t feel like going out but he can’t deal with the scene it will cause if he backs out now, plus he’s still choosing to believe that Rachel has a point about the sticking-together thing. He sighs and gently nudges Chandler away from his shoulder before getting up and shuffling over to the bathroom.  
  
When Kurt comes back out in the living room, all clean and styled and dressed in tight black jeans and a dark navy shirt with leather details, the DVD menu is playing in front of a still sleeping Chandler. Kurt walks over, snatching his knee-high Dr. Martens from the shoe rack in the process, and nudges him on the shoulder once, twice before he wakes up.  
  
“Up you go, sleepyhead,” Kurt says, sitting down on the couch to begin the process of putting on his boots. “We need to leave for the restaurant in half an hour.”  
  
Chandler yawns and nods, bouncing up off the couch with a lot of energy considering that he was asleep thirty seconds ago. He presses a kiss to the top of Kurt’s head – Kurt has to bite back a disgruntled sound because  _really?_  He  _just_  did his hair – and saunters off to the bathroom, calling out “Don’t leave without me!” before the door slides shut behind him.  
  
*  
  
The restaurant isn’t very big and, seeing as it’s still quite early, most of the patrons seem to have settled at the long, metal-covered bar at the far wall. The tables and chairs spread out on the floor in front of it are a deep brown colour and everything is lit up by too-bright LED lights, white and red and blue and green, embedded in the wooden ceiling at a seemingly random pattern.  
  
Kurt would never tell anyone but he absolutely hates the place from the moment he walks in. It’s too bright, too open and impersonal, and full of sharp edges. He’s all for mixing different types of interior designs and playing around with colours and styles, but this place should really consider toning down the whole futuristic disco-themed brothel approach. He just knows he’s going to be battling a headache all night.  
  
Rachel loves it, of course, and Finn nods mutely along while she gushes about the place over their starters, how the design is so now and how greatly the food has been praised in the reviews. Chandler seems impressed as well, while Kurt mostly follows Finn’s example. Rachel seems determined not to touch the subject of the Anderson family because when she’s done talking about the restaurant (after their starters are long gone and replaced by their main courses) she jumps right into the subject of the hottest new show on Broadway, and Kurt is grateful because that is a conversation he can actually participate in.  
  
In the pause between main course and dessert Kurt excuses himself to go to the bathroom, mainly because the headache he predicted has been pounding at his skull for more than an hour now and he just needs to  _breathe._  It takes a while before he finds the door – it’s almost hidden behind the far corner of the bar – but when he steps inside his mouth falls open. The walls are covered in light-coloured bamboo sticks, there are tasteful tropical – plastic – plants in ceramic pots in the corners, and the pleasant sound of a trickling stream plays in the hidden speakers on low volume. It’s like stepping into another world, a calm, peaceful world with colours that don’t sting your eyes. Kurt briefly wonders if he can just hide in here until the others are done with their dinner, but the thought is quickly forgotten when he rounds the corner and sees… the guy from the pub. Blaine.  
  
Blaine, dressed in deep blue suit slacks and a crisp white shirt, standing by the sinks and scrubbing at what seems to be a stain on his sleeve. He seems very focused on the task at hand and has obviously not noticed Kurt coming in. For a moment Kurt contemplates turning around and leaving but if he’s perfectly honest, going back out there so soon is definitely not a pleasant thought. So instead he clears his throat as quietly as he can and takes a couple of steps towards Blaine.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
Blaine jumps at the sound of his voice and turns around, clearly surprised, and dropping the napkin he’s been scrubbing with. Kurt cocks his head to the side and smiles politely.  
  
“I do believe we’ve met before?” he says. Blaine just looks at him, mouth slightly open. “At the pub the other day?” Kurt adds helpfully, still waiting for Blaine to say anything, but he just stands there. Suddenly Kurt’s confidence drops to his feet and he shifts his gaze to the floor, turning to leave. “Or, or maybe I have the wrong person, I’m sorry I –“  
  
“Kurt!” Blaine suddenly exclaims, making Kurt turn back around and meet the other man’s hazel eyes. “N-no, we did meet at the pub, I’m sorry I just… I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he continues, a smile spreading on his face as he speaks. “Geez, you surprised me.”  
  
“Well, clearly I did,” Kurt says, nodding at the scrunched up napkin on the floor. Blaine quickly bends down to pick it up, a faint pink blush spreading on his cheeks as he straightens up and throws it in the bin.  
  
“Sorry about that,” he says,” blushing a little harder in a way that Kurt can’t help but find endearing. “I just came in here to try and get this stain out of my sleeve and…” he brings his arm up to his face and inspects the fabric, “… I think this is as good as it’s going to get, to be honest.”  
  
“Well, I know my fabrics,” Kurt says, “And if you just put it in the washer when you get home, your shirt will be as good as new,” he continues with a small crooked smile.  
  
“Awesome!” Blaine says, looking up and meeting Kurt’s eyes for one second too long. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes and Blaine shifts his gaze to the wall, nervously scratching his neck.  
  
“Um, you know I think, um, I think I have to… you know, get back out there, before they, um, start wondering where I’ve gone or… or something,” he mumbles, so quietly Kurt almost can’t hear him, before swiftly grabbing his suit jacket off a counter and walking out. Kurt stays where he is, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. Then he hears the creak of the door as another man walks in and Kurt realizes he must look stupid just standing there. So he does what he came for; takes a mild painkiller for the headache and thoroughly checks his hair and complexion in the mirror before walking out into the restaurant again.  
  
On his way out he throws a glance down the stretch of the bar and stops dead when he sees Blaine about halfway down it with the arm of a tall, very handsome man around his shoulders. The man is well-dressed and grinning widely, talking animatedly to a redhead on Blaine’s other side. Blaine’s head is bent down but Kurt can still see the absent-minded smile on his lips as he slowly stirs his drink. Kurt finds himself wondering if the tall man is Blaine’s boyfriend and as soon as that thought is in his head, a faint trace of a feeling he hasn’t felt in a very long time swirls through his gut. He recognizes it immediately and wants to slap himself. Hard.  
  
 _Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, you are not getting even the slightest bit jealous of some six-feet-tall beau you don’t know because he may or may not be the boyfriend of Blaine, whom you barely know! Shit, pull yourself together._  
  
“Can I get you anything, sir?” a voice suddenly says by his right ear. He jumps a little, startled, and turns his head to find one of the bartenders smiling politely at him.  
  
“N-no, no thank you,” Kurt says, realizing he must’ve been standing there looking at Blaine and his company for longer than would be deemed normal. Right after he’s finished speaking the man by Blaine’s side throws his head back and gives a big, genuine laugh while patting Blaine on the shoulder. Kurt bites his lip and forces down the unpleasant feeling in his gut.  
  
“Maybe later,” he says to the bartender, looking over at Blaine and the others one last time before quickly making his way back to his table.  
  
“Sweetie!” Chandler exclaims when he joins them again. “I was beginning to think you’d drowned in the toilet. Come, sit, we were just about to order desserts. What would you like? We can share one!”  
  
In the end, Finn decides on some fancy chocolate cake that he can’t even pronounce the name of, Rachel chooses fruit salad with vegan ice cream and Chandler talks Kurt into splitting a big piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Kurt was actually planning on not having anything at all – he gave into the temptation of a piece of lemon cake at the bakery the other day – but Chandler had insisted, in an increasingly annoying way, that it would be really romantic to share a dessert. So he’d given in and is at the moment looking for his next excuse to leave the table.  
  
It appears sooner than he expected.  
  
“Kurt, darling,” Rachel pouts, “Our waiter is busy and I’d really like a Cosmo, could you please, please get one for me at the bar? I’d do it myself but these shoes are killing my feet just from sitting down!”  
  
Kurt smiles at her, patting her hand.  
  
“Of course, anything for my shining star,” he teases, putting his napkin on the table and getting up, only to see Chandler doing the same.  
  
“I’ll go with you!” he says, and Kurt has to bite down on the annoyed reply that’s threatening to escape his lips. He turns around and puts a light hand on Chandler’s shoulder.  
  
“Thanks, but I think I can walk ten feet without getting assaulted. Sit down honey, I’ll be right back.”  
  
Kurt tries to keep his expression casual and really hopes that his voice sounds normal and not layered with restraint to not sound annoyed. Fortunately, Chandler reluctantly sits back down and Kurt makes his way over to the bar, actually unsure if his feet subconsciously led him to the spot right beside the redhead on Blaine’s right side or if it was simply the nearest opening in the long line of people. In any case, right when he’s asked the bartender for a Cosmo (for Rachel) and a Tom Collins (for himself) the redhead gets up and wanders off on her high heels, putting nothing but air and an empty barstool between Kurt, Blaine and the man by his side. Kurt nervously bites his lip, caught between turning his head and acknowledging them or just forgetting about the drinks and go hide in the bathroom again. However, it seems Blaine isn’t quite as torn as he is.  
  
“Kurt! Long time no see.”  
  
Kurt turns to face him and isn’t very surprised to find Blaine smirking at him, eyebrows raised, as if daring him to come up with a clever answer. Kurt knows he shouldn’t, that would be flirting, but he can’t help himself.  
  
“Well, Blaine,” he coos playfully, sliding up on the empty barstool with practiced ease. “Do you forget about all your bathroom encounters this quickly?”  
  
A big smile of satisfaction spreads over Kurt’s face as Blaine nearly chokes on his drink, the man by his side repeatedly patting his back while shaking in silent laughter.  
  
“Oh  _my,_  that really sounded less dirty in my head,” Kurt says, still smiling widely and not fooling anyone. Oh god, why is he doing this, why is he flirting? He’s got a boyfriend! But he really can’t stop now, he’d forgotten how much fun it was to just flirt with someone.  
  
“You,” the man beside Blaine suddenly says, pointing at Kurt with a big smile on his face. ”I like you already. I’m Cooper, Blaine’s endlessly charming big brother.”  
  
He holds out his hand and Kurt shakes it, while Blaine still recovers between them. Kurt can’t seem to stop smiling. _Brother._  It’s Blaine’s brother, not his boyfriend.  
  
 _Why do you care,_  a voice that he probably should listen to whispers deep inside him.  _You have a very loving boyfriend who really cares about you._  
  
“So,” Blaine says, wiping his eyes and coughing one last time before turning to smile at Kurt, but before he can say anything else the redhead appears by Cooper’s side, saying something to him in a low voice. He winks at her and sweeps his drink, patting Blaine on the shoulder as he gets up and slides an arm around her waist.  
  
“You boys have fun!” he calls over his shoulder as the two of them steer their steps towards the big glass doors. Kurt turns his head to look at them and then turns back to Blaine, eyebrows raised in question.  
  
“He always does that,” Blaine says with a fond smile and a shrug. “The women love him, I’ve never seen him leave a bar or club alone.”  
  
Kurt’s about to respond but is interrupted by the bartender sliding the drinks he ordered to him over the counter. Kurt hands him his credit card and then looks back at Blaine, who is looking at the drink glasses with an expression that Kurt can’t quite read. The closest he gets is ‘resigned amusement”.  
  
“I seem to be out of luck these days,” Blaine says quietly, almost to himself.  
  
“How so?” Kurt wonders, picking up his Tom Collins and taking a sip. It’s delicious.  
  
“Well, every time I have my mind set on buying you a drink, you wind up already having one.”  
  
Blaine lifts his eyes to meet Kurt’s and his smile is so  _genuine_  that Kurt can’t help but smile a bit too, even though he’s somewhat taken aback by Blaine’s honesty.  
  
“Oh, well I… sorry?” he says, finally deciding to listen to that voice inside him. He picks up Rachel’s Cosmo and slides off the stool, getting ready to leave. “You know, they’re waiting for me, I really should – “  
  
“Is that other drink for your girlfriend?” Blaine suddenly says, looking up at Kurt with an expression that’s probably meant to be calm curiosity, but Kurt can see the worry and uncertainty in Blaine’s eyes. He looks so… sad.  
  
“What? Oh, no not at all, Rachel’s my best friend. They’re – they’re all just my friends,” he says, turning and walking away before Blaine catches him lying. And why did he lie anyway? That was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Why couldn’t he just have told the truth, told Blaine that his boyfriend of 11 months is sitting at the table with him? Stupid. Stupid, stupid,  _stupid._  
  
So much for listening to the inner voice of reason.  
  
*  
  
The dinner drags on for yet another hour but thankfully Rachel finds some interesting conversation topics, and Kurt doesn’t consider fleeing to the bathroom again. These people are after all both his friends and family and he knows he’s lucky that they still want to be seen with him after his blow-out yesterday. He squeezes Rachel’s hand on the table while she animatedly rambles on about her favourite Broadway performers, he smiles and nods at Finn when he gets a play or a musical number right (apparently Rachel has given him homework) and when Chandler takes his hand under the table it doesn’t annoy him, even if it doesn’t fill his stomach with lovey-dovey feelings either. It just feels… safe, a warm weight in his hand, simply letting him know it’s there.  
  
When their tab is finally paid Rachel sneaks off to the bathroom and Finn is already outside, trying to get them a cab. Chandler insists on staying with Kurt while he waits in line to get his coat, standing extremely close to him all the time and holding onto his arm, as if he’s afraid he’ll trip and fall and break his skull or something. In the end, Kurt is relieved when Rachel emerges from the bathroom and calls Chandler away to talk about something. He gets his coat and hurries out, so eager to get away from the LED-lights and the sharp corners that he doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going and almost knocks someone over right outside the restaurant entrance. He quickly regains his own balance and reaches out to touch the other person’s shoulder, before even looking at them.  
  
“Oh god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t – “  
  
“You know, this is starting to get ridiculous.”  
  
Kurt immediately recognizes the voice and looks up, right into Blaine’s hazel eyes. He straightens up and resists the impulse to start laughing because he knows Blaine will join him, the twinkle in his eyes isn’t lying about that. Kurt starts buttoning his coat, not because it’s cold outside but because he just needs something to do with his hands.  
  
“You know, we really have to stop running into each other like this,” he says, a mischievous grin slipping from him for a few seconds before he gathers enough sanity to rein it in. Stop it.  _Stop. It._  
  
“I actually wouldn’t mind if we didn’t,” Blaine says in an easy voice, the nervous tremor almost impossible to detect. He looks up at Kurt through his lashes and okay, Kurt wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t able to see how good-looking Blaine is.  
  
“I – “ Kurt begins but is interrupted by Finn, shouting at him from ten feet away.  
  
“Kurt! I got us a cab! Where’s Rachel and Chandler?”  
  
“They’re still inside, I’m sure they’ll be out any minute!” Kurt shouts back, making sure to not look at Blaine. "I’ll be right there!”  
  
“You’re leaving?”  
  
There it is again, Blaine attempting to sound casual but not being able to hide the slight sadness in his voice. Kurt doesn’t want to care, doesn’t have to care. But he kind of does.  
  
“Well yeah… I mean the others may want to go to a club or something but I’m just really tired right now, I want to go home and read until I fall asleep and… I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he confesses with a tired smile, which Blaine responds to with another one of those big, truly genuine smiles. Kurt doesn’t have time to say anything else before Rachel and Chandler trip out of the glass door entrance, giggling and pulling him with them towards Finn and the waiting cab.  
  
“It was nice meeting you again!” Kurt calls over his shoulder, the end of the sentence dissolving into a giggle as a tipsy Rachel tickles him. He doesn’t even notice the way Blaine is watching him leave, like he’s both gained and lost something incredible tonight.  
  
\----------  
  
“Blaine – “  
  
“I’m in love with him.”  
  
“You – what?”  
  
“I said, I’m in love with him.”  
  
“Blainey,” Cooper says, walking over to his bed and sitting down on it, “You’ve only met him twice, last time was three days ago.”  
  
“Well technically, that night we met three times so that would make it a total of four times and – “  
  
Blaine stops when he sees the look on Cooper’s face and rolls his eyes, throwing his arm over his face.  
  
“Alright well, maybe not in love with him, but I definitely like him. A lot.”  
  
“Well then, Squirt, you should do something about it! Ask him out.”  
  
“Don’t call me that. And yeah right, as if he’d say yes,” Blaine scoffs, rubbing at his eyes. A pause, and then he lowers his hands and looks up at Cooper. “But I’m guessing you didn’t come in here at 8:15am to offer me relationship advice?”  
  
“And he takes the gold!” Cooper grins and stands up, throwing Blaine’s duvet off him. “Dad asked for you, said it was important. Come on, get dressed!”  
  
Ten minutes later Blaine is walking through the door to his father’s office, blinking against the fluorescents. His father is sitting in his desk chair, looking at something that seems to be a large print-out of a photograph.  
  
“Sit,” he says, turning to face Blaine but with his eyes still on the photograph in his hand. Blaine does so and looks at his father, waiting expectantly.  
  
“So, what was so important?” he asks at last.  
  
“We found the murderer,” his father answers without missing a beat. Blaine suddenly sits up straighter, his entire body on edge.  
  
“Really? Who is it?”  
  
His father doesn’t answer, he just puts the photograph down on the desk and slides it over to Blaine. Blaine looks at it, and suddenly everything turns cold.  
  
The photograph shows a man of Blaine’s own age with chestnut hair, eyes of unidentified colour and, according to Blaine, the most beautiful lips he has ever seen.  
  
It’s Kurt.  
  
Kurt is staring up at him from the photo and Blaine’s father is sitting opposite him, telling Blaine that Kurt is a murderer.  
  
“F-father, are… are you sure?” Blaine asks, knowing the answer but needing to ask anyway.  
  
“Of course I’m sure,” his father answers, opening a drawer and taking something from it. “This man killed your cousin. Now, I know you’ve been complaining about not getting to be part of the action…”  
  
A loud thump on the desk makes Blaine jump and look up, seeing his father slide the heavy object over to him, covering the photo of Kurt.  
  
It’s a gun.  
  
“… so I thought I’d let you handle the only fun part of this whole mess.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I can’t kill him, Coop.”  
  
“I know, so you’ve said… about fifteen times. And I thought you weren’t supposed to tell anyone who the murderer is?” Cooper remarks, playfully pointing the gun at various objects in the room.  
  
“Does it matter?” Blaine rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillow. “It’s not like you wouldn’t have found out anyway,” he continues, his voice muffled. “I think dad knew I would tell you.”  
  
“Well, since we’ve established you can’t kill him, you have to tell him what’s going on. Tell him who you are,” Cooper says in a calm voice. Blaine lifts his head from the pillow, not quite believing his own ears.  
  
“You can’t be serious. He would hate me forever!”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Cooper points out, twirling the gun around his fingers. “And honestly, Blaine – what would you rather have, Kurt alive and hating you or Kurt dead and gone, six feet under?”  
  
Blaine lifts himself up on his elbows and glances over at Cooper, who’s looking at him with a serious expression on his face even though the gun is still twirling around in his right hand.  
  
“Would you  _stop_  playing with that,” Blaine mutters, rolling over onto his back and running a hand through his curls. Cooper flashes him a quick smirk but stops, putting the gun on a side table. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  
  
“You know Kurt’s in grave danger now, little brother. You’re the only one who knows about it, the only one who can help him.”  
  
Blaine knows his brother is right but the thought of telling Kurt everything… Scary doesn’t even  _begin_  to cover it. All his life he’s looked to Cooper for advice and this time is no different, so he sits up and meets his brother’s eyes.  
  
“What do I do?”  
  
“The car’s already waiting outside, if you don’t get in it soon dad will start asking questions,” Cooper says, getting up from his chair and grabbing the gun from the table, holding it out towards Blaine. “Take it, go to his place, leave it in the car. Tell him everything. He deserves to know, Blaine. Make him understand that he’s in danger and that you’re the only one who can help him. You know how to keep him out of harm’s way.”  
  
Blaine nods, his mouth a thin line as he accepts the gun from Cooper. He quickly shoves the ammo his father gave him in under his pillow, grabs his leather jacket and walks out without another word.  
  
*  
  
As the big black car makes its way through the streets towards Kurt’s apartment, Blaine sits sullenly in the back seat and inspects the gun in his hands. Blaine has never actually fired a gun at another person but he has fired guns, a multitude of them in fact, at shooting ranges many times before and he’s well aware that this isn't just any gun. It’s his great-grandfather’s Colt Peacemaker, a fine piece of craftsmanship and a treasured family possession. Blaine can’t for the life of him figure out why his father trusted him with this gun; he knows the man better than to think it’s some sort of heartfelt bonding attempt. The best explanation he can come up with right now is that it’s some sort of mockery, or a dare. Maybe his father knows he’s met Kurt before – he’s got eyes and ears everywhere after all – and is confident that Blaine won’t kill him. And he’s right, Blaine won’t do it and he’ll be damned if he won’t save Kurt from his family, whatever it takes.  
  
And he knows exactly what it’ll take.

When the car comes to a halt outside Kurt’s apartment building, Blaine bends down and slides the gun under the seat, far out of view. He sits up straight, extremely relieved to be rid of it for now, and takes one, two, three deep breaths to calm himself before stepping out of the car and into the building. He’s eternally grateful that the main entrance of the building isn’t locked at this time of day, because it would just be extremely awkward having to ask Kurt to buzz him in. On the elevator ride to Kurt’s fourth floor apartment Blaine frantically repeats to himself what he’s going to tell Kurt.  _You have to be safe, Kurt. I’m sorry that you got involved in all this but this is the only way, trust me._  Even in his own head it sounds weak and unconvincing, because what reason does Kurt have to trust him blindly like he’s going to ask him to do? They barely know each other.  
  
 _I have to keep him safe._  
  
When the elevator stops Blaine steps out of it, shaking with nerves, and rings Kurt’s doorbell. He can hear shuffling inside and then steps walking towards him and oh god he’s not sure if he can do this. But he has to, for Kurt. He has to be strong for Kurt. His heart is pounding in his ears as the door unlocks and opens, revealing Kurt who understandably looks a bit surprised to see him.  
  
“Blaine?” Oh, how Blaine has missed the sound of his voice. “Um, hi. How… how did you know where I live?”  
  
Blaine can see his face shift into a guarded expression and  _shit, he thinks I’m some kind of creepy stalker._  
  
“I -, um, look, this isn’t what it looks like, Kurt,” he says, speaking slowly and trying to sound more confident that he is. “I know we barely know each other but I… I have to speak with you, it’s important. Can I please come in?”  
  
Kurt just watches him for a while, slowly chewing on his bottom lip, before nodding his permission and stepping aside to let Blaine in.  
  
“Thank you,” Blaine says quietly, trying not to stare into Kurt’s eyes as he walks past him and into the apartment. He doesn’t dare to go further than a couple of steps inside so he stops there, hearing Kurt close the door behind him. His eyes quickly scan over the living room he just stepped into – small but light and open, modern furnishings – before turning around to face Kurt. His blue eyes meet Blaine’s, the puzzled and somewhat guarded expression still on his face. Blaine takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his curls.  
  
“I, um… you may want to sit down for this one,” he says meekly, gesturing towards the couch by the far wall. Kurt nods quietly, walks over and sits down, his movements graceful but hesitant and his eyes on Blaine at all times. Blaine follows, desperately trying to calm his wildly beating heart. He sits down and covers his face with his hands, breathing shakily.  
  
 _How do I even start?_  
  
“Are… are you okay?” Kurt suddenly asks, his voice sounding genuinely concerned, and when Blaine looks up at him he has to stop himself from just leaning forward and kissing him right then and there. Kurt is  _worried_  about him, even though Blaine just showed up out of nowhere and they barely know each other. His expression is a mixture of so many things, his eyes are glowing blue and grey and Blaine wants to lose himself in those eyes and never return.  
  
 _Oh god, I’m really falling in love with him aren’t I?_  
  
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, don’t worry about me,” he says, surprised at himself for how normal his voice sounds. “I… to be honest, you should be worried about yourself.”  
  
A dash of fear splays over Kurt’s face for a split second – Blaine doesn’t miss it – before the confused expression is back. “What are you talking about?”

_Oh god which part do I start with? The fact that I’m an Anderson? The fact that I know he killed someone? Fuck, I don’t want him to be scared of me, I couldn’t bear it._  
  
“Kurt,” he begins slowly, weighing every word carefully on his tongue. “What I’m about to tell you might shock you but I’m asking you… no, I’m  _begging_  you to trust me when I say that I mean you no harm.” He meets Kurt’s eyes and sees the small grain of fear in them and he almost panics for a second but no,  _no, I have to stay calm. For him._  
  
“Okay, you’re kind of scaring me now,” Kurt says slowly and Blaine’s heart breaks a little at the quiver in his voice.  
  
“You have nothing to be afraid of here, please, Kurt. I’m here to help you, I swear,” he pleads, just barely stopping himself from reaching out and taking Kurt’s hand.  
  
“Help me with what?” Kurt asks, eyeing Blaine cautiously and gripping the couch cushion. Blaine can see his hands shake slightly.  
  
 _Fuck’s sake, just say it. Just spit it out. Do it._  
  
“I know you killed someone.”  
  
Even Blaine is shocked by his own words; it sounds so much worse when you say it out loud. He doesn’t dare to look at Kurt, who’s still as a statue, barely breathing. Blaine opens his mouth again and keeps talking because it seems like the only logical thing to do.  
  
“I know you killed someone but I don’t believe it was in cold blood. Self-defense, accident, whatever it was… I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Blaine covers his face with his hands. “I just  _know!_ ” he half-yells into his hands, shoulders shaking as he’s trying not to lose it in front of Kurt.  
  
“You’re right,” Kurt says quietly, making Blaine try even harder to even out his breathing. “It… it was both self-defense and an accident. He attacked me and I –“  
  
Kurt’s voice breaks and Blaine finally lifts his gaze to look at him. His head is bent down, hand covering his mouth and eyes blinking rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears. Blaine wants to scream.  
  
“Kurt, it’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it, I believe you,” he says, yet again straining against the urge to touch the man beside him. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he continues with a joyless laugh.  
  
“But why are you here?” Kurt asks, eyes desperate. Desperate to understand, Blaine realizes. “What can you do? And why…  _how_  do you know? And why do you even want to –“  
  
“I’m here because I can help,” Blaine interrupts him, searching for a way to calm Kurt down. “And I want to help because… well, because I can. In fact, I think I’m just about the only one who can.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Kurt says, his voice so low it’s almost a whisper. His eyes stare at Blaine, wide and unblinking. Blaine swallows and braces himself for the next part.  
  
“Your life is in danger, Kurt. There’s only one way for you to be safe, and I can provide it. If you want me to.”  
  
 _God, please want me to._  
  
“You still haven’t told me how you know all this,” Kurt says hesitantly, eyes flickering across the room and looking everywhere but at Blaine. Blaine sighs and presses his lips together, taking a deep breath through his nose.  
  
“I was just getting to that,” he says, now attempting to keep the fear out of his own voice instead of Kurt’s. He sticks his hand in his jacket pocket and curls his fingers around his signet ring. “Please remember, Kurt; I don’t want to hurt you. I’m here to help.”  
  
Kurt nods slowly, biting his lip and focusing on Blaine’s hand in his pocket. Blaine closes his eyes and pulls out the ring, holding it out in his open palm.  
  
 _Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me._

A sharp gasp from Kurt quickly crushes his hope and he feels the couch move as Kurt gets up. He opens his eyes, despair coursing through his body as he sees Kurt back away from him, hand over his mouth and eyes wide with fear and… with fear and disgust, Blaine realizes and he can almost hear the crack of his own heart breaking.  
  
“Kurt, please, don’t,” he pleads, standing up and quickly tucking the ring away again. He doesn’t dare move closer to Kurt, who’s almost backed up against the wall now. “I don’t want to –“  
  
“Bullshit!” Kurt yells suddenly, dropping his hand from his mouth and fisting it at his side. “I killed one of your own and I’m supposed to believe you came here to  _help_  me?”  
  
“Yes!” Blaine exclaims, the empty feeling of hopelessness in his gut increasing with each passing second. “There’s only one way for you to be safe and –“  
  
“You’re a  _fucking liar!_ ” Kurt yells again, his face reddening and his eyes dark with rage. “How dare you… what were you going for, huh? Did you want me to trust you enough to get in a car with you and go to your family, to your father, and have him deal with me? Did you –“  
  
“Kurt,  _stop!_ ” Blaine interrupts him, screaming so loud he actually surprises himself. He takes a few calming breaths and clears his throat, looking at a stunned Kurt with pleading eyes. “Kurt.  _Please_  listen to me, because it’s very important that you understand this. Victor was my cousin and my entire family besides me and my brother wants you dead. It was a piece of cake for my father to find out where you lived, how else do you think I would’ve been able to find you?” he says, feeling a hollow sort of calm spreading through his body as he gets everything out of his system. “He sent me here to kill you. I’m not kidding around, I hid a Colt Peacemaker under the backseat of the car that took me here. I have no intentions of getting you into that car and as you must understand by now, I have no intentions of harming you in any way.”  
  
“Then what are your intentions?” Kurt whispers, almost too quietly for Blaine to hear. His hands are clasped together over his chest and his eyes are filled with unshed tears.  _Tears of fear,_  Blaine thinks and his stomach falls into his shoes.  
  
“To get you out of my father’s reach, if you’ll let me,” Blaine says, gearing up for what he knows he must say very soon.  
  
“How?” Kurt says, voice a little louder but still very quiet in the spacious room.  
  
 _Okay, here we go._  
  
“You have to marry me,” Blaine blurts out on a tight breath, probably a little too quickly. Kurt is just staring at him, blinking slowly.  
  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
  
“You have to marry me,” Blaine says again, slower this time. His heart is beating wildly in his chest as he watches Kurt’s reaction. His mouth falls open, his brow furrows and he holds up a questioning finger in the air.  
  
“Okay, okay, hold on just a second,” he says slowly, as if still trying to process the information. “I thought we were talking running away to Africa or something. How will marrying you possibly get me out of your father’s reach?”  
  
Blaine tries to ignore the sour tone in Kurt’s voice. “If you marry me you become part of the family,” he explains, fiddling with the hem of his jacket but still looking at Kurt. “It’s forbidden to hurt a member of the family, no matter their crime. Those are the rules.”  
  
“Your father would obey those rules?” Kurt asks, his tone understandably skeptic and his head cocked to the side.  
  
“If he believed we married for love then yes, he would,” Blaine says, his voice calm and secure for the first time since he was handed the Colt this morning. “My father may be many things but he’s –“

“Just… wait, okay?” Kurt interrupts, holding up his hands. “I still don’t understand why you want to do this, or why I should let you. Marriage is not something anyone should take lightly on.”  
  
“I know that,” Blaine says, trying not to let hopelessness spread inside him again. “But you must understand that I can’t just stand by while they seek out and kill you. I know we’ve only met a couple of times but I’m not like my father, Kurt. I could never forgive myself if I let them hurt you when I could’ve done something to prevent it.”  
  
Kurt bites his lip. “And you’re sure there isn’t another way?”  
  
“As far as both me and my brother knows, this is the only solution that’ll keep you alive,” Blaine says, a sadness in his voice. “We don’t know of any –“  
  
“Fine. Okay.”  
  
Baine blinks. “Okay?”  
  
“Okay, yes, fine, affirmative,  _whatever,_ ” Kurt says, moving away from the wall and slumping down into an armchair. “I’ll do it if that’s what it takes. I’ll marry you.”  
  
Blaine’s first impulse is to pounce Kurt and hug him, sobbing ‘thank you’ into his shoulder. He mentally slaps himself for that one. Instead he takes one tentative step forward, looking down at Kurt with wide eyes.  
  
“Well that’s… that’s good. That’s excellent,” he says, trying to contain the relief in his voice. “I… thank you. I mean, for letting me help you.”  
  
“Do you have any idea where to go for this?” Kurt says, looking up at him with a resigned expression. “Because as far as I know it’s not legal in this godforsaken place yet.”  
  
Fortunately, Blaine has this part of the conversation prepared. “I have a friend who’s a priest in Vermont, it’s legal there and he owes me a favour,” he says, trying not to sound too excited. In fact, he shouldn’t be sounding excited at all. Kurt raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.  
  
“Vermont? Isn’t that a little far?”  
  
“I have connections,” Blaine says, shrugging. “I can have a private jet waiting for us tomorrow morning.”  
  
“So soon?” Kurt breathes, going slightly pale. Blaine swallows and bites his lip; he knows it’s sudden but the rush is necessary.  
  
“Kurt,” he says, taking another step forward and is delighted when Kurt doesn’t shy away from him. “I won’t be able to keep the fact that you’re still alive from my father for more than 24 hours, if even that. He’s going to find out soon and when he does he’ll send one of my uncles and trust me, they won’t blink twice before they pull the trigger. If you’re still in town tomorrow, you’ll be in grave danger.”  
  
“I was under the impression that marriage licenses take a bit longer to acquire than 24 hours?” Kurt says, eyebrow raised and the sour tone back in his voice.  
  
“Like I said,” Blaine says, shrugging again. “Connections. I’ll handle all of that tonight, you just stay here, explain to your close friends what’s going on and gather some stuff to take with you tomorrow. Okay?”  
  
Kurt looks down at his hands that are clasped together in his lap and nods slowly. Blaine can hear him breathing deeply and shakily and his need to reach out and touch the other man has never been so strong.  
  
“You will have to come with me afterwards, you understand that, right?” Blaine says softly, doing everything in his power to not make it sound like an order because it’s not. It’s a plea. “My father… he has to see us together. Believe we’re in love and… and happy –“  
His voice breaks and he has to look away from Kurt because he can’t deal with his feelings right now. They will have to wait, even though that’s easier said than done.  
  
“Yeah,” Kurt says, his voice emotionless. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you,” Blaine whispers, not knowing what else to say and feeling like he’s seriously overstayed his nearly nonexistent welcome. “I should… I should go. I’ll come and pick you up myself early tomorrow morning, the plane will be at a private airport not far out of town,” he adds, slowly making his way towards the door. Kurt nods quietly and gets up; apparently his manners are too good for him to not follow Blaine to the door.  
  
“I’m so sorry about all this,” Blaine says sincerely as Kurt opens the door for him. “I really am.”  
  
Kurt chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he speaks. “So am I.”  
  
Blaine just presses his lips together and nods curtly, walking out of the apartment. He’s just about to take his first step down the stairs in the hallway when he hears Kurt’s voice behind him and spins around.  
  
“There’s something you should know, Blaine.”  
  
“What’s that?” Blaine asks, slightly confused. Kurt raises his chin and looks up at the ceiling for a moment before slowly lowering his eyes all the way to his feet.  
  
“I have a boyfriend.”  
  
Suddenly everything inside Blaine is either falling or clenching painfully and he doesn’t have time to pick his heart up from his feet, much less actually form a coherent response, before it’s too late and Kurt has closed the door behind him. Blaine stumbles down two steps at a time and when he reaches the car and throws himself into it he’s shaking with full-body sobs. Everything is such a mess.  
  
\----------  
  
Four floors above ground Kurt is crying too, but for different reasons.  
  
His entire life has been turned upside down just when he thought he could maybe start getting everything back to normal after what happened. His emotions are all over the place, throwing him off metaphorical cliffs and making him feel like he’s drowning because he can’t catch his breath.  
  
 _I’m getting married tomorrow. To a guy I barely know._  
  
He knows that in theory, his first instinct should be to call Chandler. But instead his finger hovers above the name ‘Rachel!!! <3’ in his contacts (she typed the name in and he never bothered changing it) and he bites his lip, feeling slightly guilty.  _But she’s my best friend,_  he thinks angrily to himself.  _It’s only normal that I would want to talk to her about this._  
  
In the end he scrolls up to Chandler’s name in the list (without exclamation marks or hearts) and calls him first because it feels like the right thing to do. Chandler comes over and Kurt sits him down on the couch, gaining a little more sympathy for Blaine when he struggles to get the words out.  
  
Chandler reacts as expected.  
  
“I have to do this!” Kurt exclaims when Chandler won’t stop pacing the floor and throwing random arguments at him. “They’re going to  _kill_  me, Chandler. What part of this don’t you get?”  
  
“How do you know he’s not just playing you?” Chandler says for what must be the fifth time, Kurt is sure. “He could be delivering you straight to the execution as far as you know!”  
  
“If he wanted me dead he would’ve done it himself,” Kurt sighs, also for the fifth time. “He had a  _gun,_  remember?”  
  
“Well, what if he didn’t?” Chandler rambles on, never standing still. “What if that was just a lie to make you trust him?”  
  
“You didn’t see him,” Kurt says quietly, his fingers absent-mindedly lacing together. “He wasn’t lying, I could see it. Feel it.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Chandler mumbles under his breath but Kurt can hear it. He clenches his teeth.  
  
“Look, Chandler, if he really wanted me dead there are a billion easier ways to do it. Why would he go through all this hassle just to put a bullet in my head when he could’ve done it the moment I opened the door for him?” Kurt says, his voice revealing how tired he is of this argument. “I’m going to do this, I’m going to marry him to be safe, whether you support me or not.”

“How could I possibly support you marrying some random guy, who also happens to be a member of a family that wants to  _kill_  you?” Chandler spits out, throwing his arms over his head in frustration. Kurt presses his lips together and stays quiet until Chandler deflates a little.  
  
“I’m sorry, babe,” he says, walking up to sit beside Kurt on the couch again. “But I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”  
  
“Well I don’t like it either,” Kurt says in a strained voice. “But it’s the only way. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”  
  
“Can I come with you?” Chandler asks, reaching out and taking Kurt’s hand in his. “To his family, afterwards. To keep you safe?”  
  
Kurt shakes his head without looking at his boyfriend. “You can’t. Blaine and I have to play the happy couple and that won’t work so well if you’re there. And I will be safe, don’t worry. They can’t hurt me.”  
  
“Oh I’m quite sure they  _can,_  your friend is just claiming that they  _won’t,_ ” Chandler says, rolling his eyes.  
  
“He’s not my  _friend._  He’s…” Kurt looks up at the ceiling and holds the breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out, shoulders slumping a little. “I don’t know what he is. But he can help me, and I’m going to let him.”  
  
“Fine,” Chandler says, his shoulders slumping too. “Are you… are you going to break up with me now?”  
  
 _In my current state I can’t handle the scene you'll cause if I do._  “No, Chandler, I’m not. You trust me, right?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Chandler says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “We’ll get through this, okay?”  
  
“Sure,” Kurt nods, his voice emotionless. “I have to call Rachel now, and then I have to… um, pack, I guess. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Chandler says, hesitating for a moment before leaning in to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips. It’s chaste but warm and firm and Kurt relaxes a little into the familiarity of it. He wonders if he’s going to miss this.  
  
When Chandler is gone Kurt picks up his phone again and calls Rachel. By the time he’s explained everything to her they’re both crying and Kurt has thrown himself on his bed, sobbing into the pillow.  
  
“Why did this have to happen to me?” he slurs into the phone and hears Rachel blowing her nose at the other end. “This is just so fucking  _unfair!_ ”  
  
“I know sweetie, I know,” Rachel says, her voice thick. “But if this is what you need to do to be safe, I’ll support you. You know that, right?”  
  
“I know, and I love you for it,” he sighs, his breathing starting to calm down a little. “Will you come with me to his family? I need to stay with him after the wedding ceremony and it’d be nice to have a friendly face there.”  
  
“You’re not bringing Chandler?” she asks.  
  
“No, I don’t wa –, I can’t,” he answers, stuttering a little. “I just… I want you to be there with me. Will you?”  
  
”Well it’ll be hard to explain to Finn but… yes, of course I’ll come with you, sweetie. Anything to make this easier for you,” she says in a soft voice and Kurt can’t help but smile a little.  
  
“Thank you,” Kurt breathes, relieved, and rolls over onto his back. “Hey, do you want to know something crazy?”  
  
“Sure,” she says and he can hear her sheets rustling too as she settles in.  
  
“I actually… I was actually crushing on Blaine. Before, you know, before I found out about all this,” Kurt says slowly. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself because of Chandler but I was definitely falling for him. And now…” he chokes out, feeling the tears well up again. “And now I know that he’s a member of that cruel family and it disgusts me and on top of that I have to  _marry_  him!” he yells out, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence. He sinks further into the sheets, panting slightly.

“Oh honey,” Rachel says, her voice layered with sympathy. “Maybe everything is not lost yet? Maybe Blaine’s different than the other Andersons. After all, he did come to save your life.”  
  
“It’s in his blood,” Kurt mumbles, shaking his head. “He may be able to play the dapper gentleman but we all know that the Andersons have done horrible things and he’s one of them. I just wish I’d known before so I wouldn’t have wasted the butterflies in my stomach on him.”  
  
“Now you’re just being silly,” Rachel giggles at the other end. “Look, Kurt, I’m not saying you should be happy about this. What I’m saying is that you should give him a chance; it might make staying with him and his family more bearable.”  
  
“I doubt it,” Kurt mutters, sitting up on the bed. “I have to pack now, darling. I will call you tomorrow, okay?”  
  
“Okay sweetie,” she says, and he can hear the emotion in her voice.  
  
“I love you, Rachel Barbra Berry.”  
  
“And I love you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. Good luck, okay? Be safe.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
After they’ve hung up Kurt goes to pack a bag but isn’t really paying attention to what he’s doing. His mind is at a million places and he doesn’t even notice that he’s crying until he sees teardrops on his Hermés scarf. By that point he just gives up, peels his clothes off and climbs into bed. He grips his pillow tightly and squeezes his eyes shut, quietly crying himself to sleep.


End file.
